Player welfare is only 'paramount' if we're willing to give something up

How many of us watching James Cameron's Oscar-winning epic gritted our teeth as the skipper orders more speed toward the iceberg we know the doomed ship is headed toward; ironically just the tip of it.

We've had them over all sorts of issues and rule changes since 1908, tweaks that supposedly tear at "the fabric of the game." There was a time the five-metre rule and the four-tackle rule were supposedly doing just that.

More recently it's been the death of the all-in brawl and the shoulder charge - this columnist screamed blue murder about both for years, but the ship still sank.

Now attention has turned to the long kickoff, the debate re-igniting after Moses Suli was knocked senseless in the opening tackle of last week's Anzac Day clash. It going by the wayside, a doomsday scenario for many, now also appears inevitable.

They used different words, but coaches Trent Robinson and Shane Flanagan seemed as resigned to it as anyone when asked about the collision in the aftermath.

You can go back and read all the arguments for the preservation of the shoulder charge and cut and paste them here.

For the record, no one actually wants to see it. It's just a reality the more we learn about concussion and its impacts. The more we learn, the more the game changes. It has to to survive.

What removing the kickoff wouldn't amount to is the utter destruction of the game. For one thing, the long kickoff hasn't been "part of the game since 1908" as may are hysterically claiming.

The old leather ball, that became hard and heavy as a brick in the wet, didn't sail as high or as long when toe-poked off a pile of sand as the synthetic Steeden does off specially designed kicking tees. That's just a fact.

Comparing those kickoffs and collisions is like comparing the cars that went around Mount Panorama at the first Bathurst in 1960 and the ones that do today.

In the interests of the discussion this columnist is more for tweaking the kickoff than dispensing with it altogether. It's a debate that will continue on to its inevitable conclusion, with or without columns like this one.

What becomes galling is the "of course, but ..." game certain people seemed so determined to play.

'Of course concussions an issue, but ...'

'Of course I'm all for player welfare, but ...'

'Of course player welfare is paramount, but ...'

The fact is, player welfare can only be truly paramount if people are willing to sacrifice some of the status quo in its interest. If you're not, then it's not.

It was nasty, but we got there with the shoulder charge. Even those who miss it are unlikely to say the game has actually suffered for its loss.

You like to think 90 per cent of fans do genuinely hold the welfare of their heroes at heart, but even those of the 'they know the risks, let them play brigade' need to wise up.

Aside from the basic humanity it takes to not wish to see players repeatedly maimed in the interests our own entertainment, concussion is an existential threat to the game.

If we want to be watching it at all in 30 years's time, the game must do everything it can to avoid litigation with the potential to bankrupt it.

To do that, there's no requirement for the game to eliminate concussion altogether, but it has to take reasonable steps within its power to address its prevalence.

Those changes will need to happen quicker than the re-education around tackle techniques that could take several generations to manifest.

They're different issues, but the player welfare argument is something that should also be considered when it comes the legal action former Bulldogs player Jackson Topine has launched against the the club.

There'll no doubt be more come to light as the matter progresses through the courts. Final judgements, including this column', should be reserved until the court's own has come down.

However, as a game, we would do well not to entirely dismiss the issue before that occurs.

Where is the line, what constitutes it, what crosses it, are all questions that need to be considered. Just like attitudes to concussion, what was once acceptable doesn't stay that way by default.

From what we can gather, the Bulldogs make no denial of the fact that the incident at the heart of Topine's action was, indeed, a punishment.

If something that is by design and intent, punitive, crosses into the realms of ritual humiliation - and it's a big if - it warrants examination.

You may well ask the question: if you can't handle a tough training exercise, how are you supposed to handle an NRL career? It's a fair one, and the answer is most people can't.

However, when it comes to questions of duty of care, clubs owe it to all players in their systems and employ - not just those who go on to have long NRL careers.

If we all care as much about men's mental health as much as we claim, we may have to re-evaluate what's considered 'normal' or necessary certain environments.

All coaches and clubs will inevitably preach player welfare and duty of care (we've certainly heard it when it comes to standing by players found guilty of sins far more egregious than being allegedly late to training).

Final determinations and judgements will ultimately be handed down by the courts, but anyone for whom player welfare is truly paramount would want those questions answered, not summarily dismissed.